Phillip's Story
by Atomic Waste
Summary: Phillip Phemes is a 12 year old Half-Blood. This story follows him as he learns his true self. He takes adventures along with his friend Jack, including a unruly disturbance in the bathroom. T for some swear words. The last paragraph is messed, forgive
1. Unruly Attack

**Disclaimer/Authors Notes: I do not own the Percy Jackson and the Olympains Series. This is a mere fanfiction. Also, I think very highly of the Hatchet series, and I do not own anything in it. Just a fan fiction. Also, excuse my spelling or grammar mistakes, if there are all. This takes place about 9 years before the Battle of Manhattan. I hope to continue this story a bit. Also, new to so I cant figure out from to edit the title. It really is "Pride or... Percy?". Nah, I screwing with you. Its "Phillip Phemen" (Ph is sounded like a F).**

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"That was truley a terrible _story. _Parts made me want to spew the contents of stomach on it, other parts just made me feel as though life was not worth living. How did this excuse of literature make it into the stores?" I said out loud, truly disgusted.

"You know, your a real bastard, Phillip." Called Jack, the excuse I had for a friend. I hated that name, Phillip. Why did my drunk Mother give me it?

"You act like your some high-arse being." I almost wanted to blurt out I was, but I knew better. I was a Half Blood, the result of a God or Goddess and a mortal falling in deep, deep love. We were the results of failures, thats what I thought. Even other Half Bloods didn't like me, why should they? They were all sons of someone important...

"Phillip! You there?" Jack almost yelled. "You must of left Earth for a moment there. Did you hear me?" I let a frown breach my face, trying to hold the anger. I clenched the book in my hand, my knuckles growing white.

"Why would you say that?" I asked in the calmest voice I could muster. Jack let out a grin, opening his mouth then closing it, almost as if he didn't know where to begin. _He probably didn't_. No, I cant let my thoughts go to that.

"Oh, what about the fact that you think you know everything, even though you are only a twelve years old? Or, perhaps you think that everything is just terrible? I mean, thats a good book. Van Gogh was a good artist." Jack said, almost matter of factily. I tried my best not to punch him in the face. If only he knew...

I stormed the classroom, running full speed to the bathroom. It was lunch, so nobody was in the halls. Once I got to the bathroom, I ripped open one of the stall doors and went in. As soon as I closed the door, locking it with a dull _click_, I started to sob uncontrolably. At first about my Mother, Gods curse her to Hades (With that a loud _crack_ was heard, obviously lightning.), how she would corner me in my bedroom, laughing – No, cackling at my situation. I would look for a escape, but there was none. She would hit me, over and over again.

Then I thought about my Dad... Father. Momus, the god of Criticism. _Thats how I was. I was born like this._ The sound of my grumbling stomach snapped me back to reality. I was so hungry... I only have a bit of bread for lunch... Thats my Mother could get. Not like she cared. Not like Momus cared.

Probably mocking Brad Pitt or something. The bastard, I hope everyone stops believing in the Gods, just so he can die. Lightning sounded again, more threatening. They can all go to Hades! Yeah, I said it!

There was a low growl infront of Phillip's stall, snapping him back to reality. Quickly he whiped the tears from his face, trying his best not to show any sign of him being a "cry baby". Slowly, he opened the stall door. There was a slobbering, hungry looking Hell Hound infront of him. Before he could let out a scream, it pounced on him...


	2. Saved

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson

Authors Notes: I will try for longer chapters, just "breaking in". Thinking of a totally original story.... or I think it is at least.

For the smallest moment, my life flashed before me. I know I'm doing a clichee here but... It really did. I saw my Mother, a large belt in her hand, swinging wildly at me. In her free hand she held a bottle Vodka. I saw a large sign above my head, a white mask laughing (I guess Momus had so few children he had to claim them) hystericly. Then I saw my only friend, Jack, staring out at me, insulting me.

I came to, but time seems to slow down. The Hell Hound flew at me, its jaws wide open. Drool flew out of his mouth, glittering lightly from the small light bulb over head. My hand was sailing to my side, trying to reach the Celestial Bronze dagger I had. When I put it in that leg sheath, I hadn't thought about if I was on the john and I got ambushed.

Time sped up now, catching up it seems. My hand was on the dagger hilt, trying in vain to pull it out.

Out of nowhere, came a large bronze looking spear. Like literally, the shaft was bronze. It was going down on the Hell Hound, but in time?

He realized time had slowed again. He felt a odd peace, knowing the end was nigh (Pardon the clichee, again).

Or was it? The spear seemed to be going faster, and the Hell Hound slower. He almost was... moving backwards. He was!

Someone had it tail, and he must of been really strong. I mean, the Hell Hound barely fit the bathroom, let alone the stall. Time sped up again, and I felt a hot trickle on my pants.

I had wet myself! Holy Hades! As I thought about that, I saw some dark black hair and... that army Desert camo shirt! Jack! He had the Hell Hound and he was killing it! Who has the spear though?

Just then, the spear went right through the Hell Hound. You see, a Hell Hound is a monster and monsters never die, just do some hunky junky in Hades then come back. So, I might run into this Hell Hound again. Oh yeah, did I mention they turn into this sand stuff? And there blood is hard to get off of cloths.

_Poof_! And the Hell Hound was gone, a pile of kiddy litter.

Oh, the irony. Brushed with death, and all I can think about is peeing myself infront of Jack, a 170 pound giant. He was large, not fat but muscle. Only he could pull a Hell

Hound back. Probably saw it as some huge dog.... But who had the spear?


End file.
